Locks and Load
by dS-Tiff
Summary: Immediately after the events of "The Bunker Games", Happy and Toby drive Amy home, but she's in need of a favour and she's in no state to be left alone.


**_This is set after S04 E13 - The Bunker Games. I was prepared to hate Amy, but it turns out I don't! I hope you enjoy this. All comments welcome. Thank you kindly._**

 **LOCKS AND LOAD**

"Is this your place?" Happy pulled on the handbrake and let out an audible breath.

"It's Quincy's place, not mine," Amy clarified. "It's all in the pre-nup." She opened the car door, but hesitated before getting out. She stared at the huge house she'd called home ever since she became Mrs Berkstead with its huge, tree-lined driveway and quadruple garage. Suddenly it no longer felt like home.

Toby spun round in his seat to look at her. "You OK?" he asked with genuine concern.

Amy shrugged. "I guess," she replied. "Thanks for the ride," she added.

Happy nodded a silent acknowledgement. In the short time she'd known Amy, Happy had gone from despising her, to feeling sorry for her, to actually liking her. A little, anyway. She and Toby may not have a huge house and millions in the bank like the Berksteads, but at least they loved each other.

Amy flashed a quick, slightly sad smile at Toby before turning away and walking towards the house.

Happy was no behaviourist, but it was obvious to her that Quincy and Amy's marriage wasn't based on love. "Quincy's a jerk," she noted.

"You noticed," replied Toby, dryly.

"She deserves better," added Happy and she started the engine. She was just about to pull away, when she noticed Amy running back towards them.

Toby had seen her too and opened the car door. "Did you forget something?" he asked.

Amy shook her head. "I… I just…" she began. "Look, you can say no, but… but Happy, would you do me a favour, please?"

Happy exchanged a puzzled glance with her husband before replying with a shrug. "Sure," she answered.

"I wouldn't ask, but it's time critical," continued Amy as Happy and Toby got out of the car. "Can you change the locks for me?"

Happy and Toby stood with Amy on the driveway and they all took a second to breathe in the fresh air, grateful not to be trapped in that bunker any more.

"There's the front door, the side door, the kitchen door, the garden door and the conservatory," Amy explained. Then her face fell into a puzzled frown. "Did I forget one?"

Happy rolled her eyes. "I'll find it," she replied, dryly. "But I thought you said this place belonged to Quincy?"

"On paper it does," replied Amy, clenching her fists as she spoke.

Toby noticed the body language, of course and realised just how angry she was with her husband. "So you want to lock him out of his own house?" he asked. "Can't say I blame you."

"I'll call my lawyer, tell him to dissect that pre-nup and throw the pieces in Quincy's face," explained Amy. "My husband was prepared to let me die today while he saved his own skin. If that isn't grounds for…" she trailed off to gather her thoughts before continuing. "…grounds for divorce then I don't know what is."

"Grounds to punch him in the mouth if you ask me," noted Happy.

Toby was surprised to hear Amy using the word 'divorce' already. She wasn't stupid, she'd always known what Quincy was like, even before she married him. He understood, though, that the way Quincy had humiliated her today in front of him and the rest of the team must have been the final straw.

"I should never have..." began Amy, but her voice hitched and she couldn't speak any more as her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Toby and Happy exchanged a worried glance. Amy was about to crack and neither of them wanted that to happen, not here.

"I'm sorry," said Amy. "I... I think I might..." but she couldn't finish her sentence. Instead she turned away and covered her face with her hand in a desperate attempt to hide her tears as she walked towards the house.

Toby glanced at Happy again. He didn't know what to do for the best. His instinct was to go after Amy - despite everything that had happened between them he hated to see her so upset, especially as this was all Quincy's fault - but he didn't want to do anything that Happy objected to.

"It's OK, dummy," said Happy, surprised that he felt the need to seek her approval. "She's hurting. This is what you're good at, she needs you. I'll grab my tools and fix the locks."

Toby grinned a huge grin and captured her lips in a kiss. "I love you," he said and ran after Amy.

Happy followed them into the house a few minutes later. She could hear voices in the kitchen and decided to make a start with the lock on the main door. It was only then that she noticed the entrance hall she was standing in. She'd never seen such decadent and frankly tasteless surroundings.

Happy felt very out of place in this environment. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered with gilt framed photographs of the supposedly happy couple. Happy recognised some of the honeymoon pictures Quincy had flaunted earlier in the bunker, but there were also photos of a smiling Amy standing by various famous landmarks all over the world.

"She's his trophy wife," Happy muttered to no one in particular. "Bastard." She couldn't stand looking at her surroundings anymore so she crouched down in front of the door and started to inspect the lock.

In the large kitchen, Toby placed two mugs of hot coffee on the marble topped breakfast bar. "Here," he said. "This'll help."

Amy sniffed and inhaled the strong aroma of the Blue Mountain blend. "Thanks," she said, quietly.

"You feeling OK now?" Toby asked her. He had been a little shocked at Amy's emotional breakdown. He'd been able to calm her down quickly enough, but it had triggered some of his old memories, only in every situation he could recall Amy had been the one helping him through the depths of despair. This role reversal was a slightly disconcerting new experience.

"Yeah, thanks," replied Amy. She wiped away the last of her tears and moved one of the mugs closer to her. A drop of coffee splashed over the side and Toby turned around to look for a cloth, but she stopped him. "Leave it," she instructed. Cleaning the kitchen was the last thing she could think about. She didn't even care if it left a stain on the marble.

Toby climbed onto the stool next to hers. "It's a good thing I'm a genius," he said. "Or I'd never have figured out how to work that coffee machine."

Any let out a small laugh. "It's Quincy's," she explained. "He had it imported from Italy. It cost three thousand dollars. It makes good coffee."

Toby's eyes widened in surprise. "It should make liquid gold for that price!" he exclaimed as he sipped at the hot drink.

"Remember that cheap coffee you used to drink?" Amy smiled. "I could always tell when you needed an extra shot." Then she suddenly looked contrite. "Oh, Toby, I'm… I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have… I mean, we don't have to talk about the past."

"It's OK," he tried to reassure her. "You're contemplating divorce, that's a big deal. It's normal to reminisce when you're stressed."

"Are you shrinking me, Doctor Curtis?" asked Amy, a tiny glimmer of a smile dancing at her lips.

Toby shrugged. "Isn't your life one long couch session these days?" he asked.

Amy's smile quickly faded. "I… I don't know what my life is any more," she admitted. She didn't want to cry again and she bit down onto her lower lip in a desperate attempt to hold herself together. "I… I don't even know why I married him."

Toby felt nothing but sympathy for her. "I do," he replied, softly. "Because he wasn't me. I'd put you through so much and then Quincy came along and swept you off your feet. He offered you everything I couldn't."

Amy thought about Toby's words for a moment. "I guess I fell for his glamourous lifestyle," she said, eventually. "Travelling the world, being on his arm when people stopped him in the street to ask for an autograph."

"No, you're not that shallow," insisted Toby. "You married Quincy for the same reason you accepted my marriage proposal. You thought you could fix us both."

"What are you talking about?" Amy asked. She put her own mug of coffee down and sat up straight on her stool, waiting for an answer.

"You're a fixer, Amy," Toby tried to explain. "You saw through that mess I'd become, you realised it wasn't the real me and you wanted to fix me."

Amy didn't respond for a moment. She'd never thought of her relationship with Toby that way before. Quincy had offered various explanations over the years for why she'd stayed with him for so long, but all of them had painted her ex as some kind of reprobate and Amy refused to blame Toby for all their problems.

"A fixer? Well in that case I failed you," she noted with a sigh. "I couldn't fix you."

"You didn't fail," insisted Toby. "I was in the grip of an addiction that was completely taking over my life. There was very little of the real me left back then, but you held the strands together. I'll always be grateful for that, y'know."

Amy nodded. She was beginning to understand. "I did what I could," she said. "But I guess I just couldn't give you what Happy can."

"No one can," he acknowledged, a warm smile spreading across his lips as he thought about the amazing woman he was married to.

"So, are you saying I tried to fix Quincy too?" Amy asked, thinking back over his explanation.

"Uh-huh," nodded Toby. "You saw something good in him. I honestly have no idea what, but whatever it was you saw it and you thought you could stop him being such a jackass. The money and the glamour was just a bonus which your psyche told you that you deserved after putting up with so much crap from me for so long. Your psyche was right about that, by the way." Toby couldn't hide the guilt from his face.

Amy sipped at her coffee and Toby studied her body language. He was reassured that all the markers he observed showed him that she was still strong enough to get through the coming months. One thing was certain, Quincy was not going to make this divorce easy for her.

Amy caught him staring at her, but she didn't feel uncomfortable. She knew exactly what he was doing. "You've always been the better behaviourist," she noted, warmly. "Always. Even when you were hitting the bottle," she sighed as old memories came flooding back and most of them weren't pretty.

"He's a quack," noted Toby. "And that popcorn psycho-babble he sells is dangerous." He swigged the last of his coffee and got off the stool to wash out his empty cup in the designer sink. He sneered in disgust as he turned on the gold tap, half expecting the water to be laced with diamonds.

Amy spun round on her stool to talk to him. "He's… he's not the terrible person you think he is," she said.

"Are you defending him now?" asked Toby, incredulously. "The guy who was ready to watch you die today?"

"No, but…" Amy couldn't offer a valid defence so she gave up. She wasn't even sure why she had tried to defend him. Loyalty, she presumed. She had never felt more humiliated than she had today. She thought she knew Quincy, she thought she understood why he acted the way he did, but it was now obvious to her that she really didn't know him at all. She never imagined that, despite all the things he'd done over the years, he would be prepared to just allow her die in front of him.

Amy closed her eyes and tried to hold her anger at bay by reminiscing again and she couldn't help smiling a little at some of the memories. "I did love you, you know," she said, opening her eyes and Toby walked back to sit with her again.

Toby smiled at her sympathetically. "No you didn't," he replied. "At least, not in the way you're thinking."

The happy memories faded as quickly as they had appeared and now Amy looked at him with sad eyes. "You and I were so wrong for each other, weren't we," she said.

"The wrongest of the wrong," agreed Toby with a nod.

"After you met Walter I knew you'd found your real home with Scorpion," continued Amy. "They were the family you needed, not me."

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by Happy's voice through the door. "Can I come in?"

Toby leapt off the stool and opened the door. "Of course you can, Sugarplum," he said.

Happy hesitated and tried to look over Toby's shoulder. "Is… is she OK?" she asked. Her concern wasn't so much for Amy as for herself. She didn't think she could deal with her husband's ex- fiancée's emotional outpouring.

"She's OK," replied Toby, quietly and Happy nervously walked into the room. Amy looked up at her.

"Back door," she said, striding across the parquet floor to inspect the lock. She made a quick mental note of the specifications and spun round to walk back out, glancing at Toby on the way out. "I didn't mean to interrupt," she said.

"You're not," insisted Amy. "We weren't… I mean, we were just talking, but…"

"You don't have to make up dumb excuses," Happy interrupted her. "I don't have an issue with you and my husband talking about the old days, or whatever it is. I'm off to buy new locks, I'll be thirty minutes, max."

Toby watched her walk away with a huge smile on his face. He couldn't be more proud of his wife. They had an understanding deep enough that she knew she had no reason to be jealous and he loved her even more for that.

"She's so good for you," Amy observed as she heard the sound of the front door closing.

"Sure is," replied Toby. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"You quit gambling for her, I still can't quite believe that," continued Amy. "I'm sorry I couldn't…" she trailed off and looked away. "I tried…" she added.

"Hey, don't blame yourself, it was my fault," insisted Toby. "I didn't quit gambling back then because I couldn't. There wasn't anything you could've said or done differently that would've made me quit. Addiction made me into a different person. If anything I should be thanking you. If it wasn't for you I'd probably be resting in eternal peace in a shallow grave somewhere in Nevada by now."

They talked for a while longer until Happy returned with the replacement locks. It didn't take long for her to fit them. She was glad to help Amy get her own back on Quincy, but she didn't want to be hanging around with Toby's ex for too long.

"Thanks for doing this, how much do I owe you for your time?" asked Amy as Happy tidied away the last of her tools.

"It was favour," replied Happy, pulling the receipt for the locks from her back pocket and handing it to Amy together with a huge bunch of new keys. "Just cover the cost of the materials and we're cool."

"No, I insist on paying you for the work you've done," said Amy. "Besides, it's Quincy's money."

"In that case I'm charging you for the couch time too!" exclaimed Toby with a grin. He was only half joking. Happy elbowed him in the ribs, eliciting a yelp of pain from her husband.

Amy went to get her purse. As she left the kitchen Happy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm kinda glad Amy's not one of those psycho-bitch kind of exes, or anything, but I'm ready to get outta here," she hissed.

"I know, me too," agreed Toby. "Not that I ever thought she was a… oh, you know what I mean."

Amy soon returned and handed over a bundle of folded cash. "That should cover it," she said.

Happy took the money and shoved it in the pocket of her jeans. "Thanks," she said. "And, um, if you, er, ever need anything else, just, y'know, call."

Toby turned slowly to smile at his wife. She never failed to amaze him.

"The first call I need to make is to my lawyer," remarked Amy.

"I think you should wait," said Toby, seriously.

"What?" exclaimed Amy. "After what Quincy did to me today? After the way he's treated me for years? You think I should stay with him?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I think you should stay together and live happily ever," replied Toby, rolling his eyes. "No, of course that's not what I'm saying! But my advice would be to at least sleep on it before you rush into anything. Right now you're feeling angry and humiliated and that means you're not thinking clearly, which is not a good frame of mind to be in when you start divorce proceedings."

Amy let out a long, slow breath as she realised he had a good point. "OK," she agreed.

"When Quincy comes home he's gonna be pissed," noted Happy.

"Good," replied Amy, defiantly. "I'm ready for this fight. I think I've been ready a long time."

Toby couldn't help but admire her words. He fully believed the strength behind them, but at the same time he was concerned that maybe she hadn't quite understood the magnitude of the decision she'd made. "Maybe you should call a friend over to stay with you tonight?" he suggested.

Amy shook her head sadly. "I don't really have any friends," she admitted. "Quincy thinks he has friends, but really they're all just sycophantic hangers-on."

Happy and Toby exchanged a glance. The more they learnt about the Berkstead's marriage the more sympathy they felt for Amy.

"You're gonna need someone to talk to while this unravels," said Toby. "You can't carry this load on your own."

Amy looked awkwardly at Happy and then back at Toby. "Oh, I… it's OK, I'll… I'm sure I'll be fine," she said.

"Oh… oh no, I didn't mean me!" exclaimed Toby, realising how it might have sounded.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. So did Happy.

"I know a good shrink," continued Toby. "Not as good as me, obviously, but she's got a lot of experience of getting people through relationship breakdowns. I'll text you her number."

"Thank you," smiled Amy. "I'm sorry about everything that happened today. Please thank Walter and the others for me too."

Happy and Toby said their goodbyes and Amy showed them out. Toby was uncharacteristically silent on the drive back to the garage.

"You OK, Doc?" asked Happy just before they turned the final corner.

"I'm just thinking," replied Toby.

"About what might have been?" asked Happy. She stopped just outside the garage and turned to face her husband. There was still a tiny part of her that wondered if he saw her as the consolation prize.

"No!" exclaimed Toby. "I was thinking about you. About us. And about how lucky we are to have each other."

Happy smiled, his words had reassured her. "I never want to end up like them," she said.

"We never will," replied Toby. He leaned across to capture her lips in a long, slow kiss. "Never."

THE END.


End file.
